


Faith

by Morgana



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-27
Updated: 2011-03-27
Packaged: 2017-10-17 07:41:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel isn't really sure exactly what he is anymore</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faith

**Author's Note:**

  * For [liliaeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liliaeth/gifts).



It's been six months since Gabriel woke up in the hotel to see a very surprised Castiel staring at him, a Castiel who'd obviously come to mourn the passing of an archangel but instead been witness to the rebirth of a god. At least, that's what Gabriel thinks he is now; he's really not all that sure. All he knows for certain is that he's no longer an archangel, but he's still working through exactly what that means. He's more than he was, he knows that, but less, as well.

For one thing, he sleeps now. And not just because he's curious about what it feels like, but because he has to. He needs the respite from the world, which has become very different since his resurrection - brighter, louder, wilder, more stimulating ... just _more_ than before. It's overwhelming, experiencing life with all of its sensations without the veil of angelic grace dampening everything he comes into contact with, and Gabriel has learned to value the peace and quiet he finds in sleep.

Of course, there are still places in the world where that peace is omnipresent, where whispers of his Father's touch linger to soothe raw spirits, but they're far away, oceans apart from the Winchesters and their increasingly dire situation. And something about them still calls to him, keeps him nearby even when he knows, deep down, that staying with them will mean his death - again. Gabriel sometimes wonders if he's caught martyrdom from them in addition to the compassion he's already contracted. Not like there's a cure for either, so however you look at it, he's pretty well screwed.

Travelling with the Winchesters has taught Gabriel a lot of things: he's learned how to figure out which diners have the best burgers based on what the other patrons are eating, where to sit in a bar to get the prettiest servers, when to call for a pizza to ensure the fastest delivery time, and which leer to give Dean to make him squeak and find an excuse to be somewhere else in a hurry. He's discovered that Sam's allergic to strawberries, Castiel dislikes most human food (although Gabriel makes a mental note to introduce him to the pleasures of a hot fudge sundae with warm, fresh-from-the-oven chocolate chip cookies sometime), Dean's a closet reality TV junkie, and messing with the car (in Dean's case) or the laptop (in Sam's) makes both Winchester come up with some really creative threats. He could've used some of that stuff back when he was still the Trickster, seriously. Most of all, however, he's learning faith.

Maybe he should say relearning, since it's not like Gabriel doesn't remember what faith is like. He was one of the original four archangels; there isn't much he doesn't remember. He remembers kneeling at his Father's feet with his brothers and watching as everything took shape around them, from the glory of Heaven to the wonder of Earth. They'd been unable to tear their eyes away from it, enthralled by verdant forests and jagged mountain peaks, lost in the swell of the ocean and the harsh gleam of desert sands. He remembers Lucifer's disdain of man and Michael's rage when he refused their Father's command, remembers the fights that tore Heaven and his heart apart, remembers the Fall and the way Lucifer screamed as he was cast down, and he remembers the day he woke up and decided to leave. And through it all, he remembers Dad.

Dad, who watched his sons turn on each other and never said anything. Dad, who saw his favorite hurled out of Heaven into a cold pit that would imprison him for millennia. Dad, who let Gabriel walk away without even trying to stop him. Dad, who could end this whole mess with a single word or one tiny reminder that he remembers they're even there. Dad, who seems to have given up on all of them the way Michael's given up on Lucifer.

Yes, Gabriel remembers faith. But at the same time, he wonders if he ever really knew it, or at least, the Winchester version of it. Sam and Dean have a faith that stuns him with its tenacity and strength. He can't call it unshakable, because he knows it's been shaken to the very foundations, but somehow it's survived, even seems to be thriving under the apocalyptic conditions that surround them. They're holding on with a might that he's seen before only in the saints and apostles of old, but they're not clinging to lofty ideals or the promise of some distant Heaven. Instead, they look to each other and believe in each other with a steadfast stubbornness that just might be what they need to survive this whole apocalpyse.

Once he starts looking, however, Gabriel is shocked to discover that it isn't just each other the Winchesters have faith in. They believe in Bobby Singer, with his library of forbidden books and magical treatises, and Castiel, who doesn't quite seem to understand what he's supposed to do with that faith. They believe in the Impala and their weapons and the healing power of a beer after a hunt - and yes, they even believe in Dad. They'd both deny that last part, of course, but Gabriel's seen Dean cast a glance skyward when he rests his hand on the trunk of the car before they go into battle, and he knows he isn't checking for rain. And he's seen Sam Winchester pray.

There's something awe-inspiring about that, watching the anti-Christ sink to his knees and bow his head, humbling himself before Dad and all the forces of the universe in a way that Lucifer never did or indeed, ever could. Gabriel knows his brother, probably better than anybody else save Michael and maybe Dad, and he knows Lucifer would die before submitting. Nearly had, actually, and Gabriel still hates him a little for that. One word and Michael would've stopped, one gesture of appeasement and this whole fucking thing could've been avoided. But then Lucifer wouldn't have been who he was, the stunningly beautiful angel with a pride that went so far beyond arrogance that he would eventually set the world on fire because of it.

As far as Gabriel knows, Sam isn't aware that he follows him sometimes when he tells Dean that he's going for a walk and ends up slipping into one of the churches near whatever cheap motel the brothers are staying at that week. He always avoids the center aisle, skirts around the gleaming, burnished pews, and heads for the shrine that's tucked away in the corner of almost every church. Whatever bill he happens to have in his pocket gets put in the offering box and he lights a candle, then kneels, clasps his hands together, and begins to pray.

Once upon a time, Gabriel would've heard Sam's prayers, would've felt them, as tangible as any caress, and a thousand times more beguiling. He would've understood the soundless words the human's lips shaped, could have repeated them in any language that had ever existed, but Gabriel is starting to realize that he would never have understood the longing and loneliness that they'd sprung from. In fact, Gabriel wonders if he ever really understood prayer at all until he witnessed Lucifer's damned vessel kneel and beg for his Father's help. It's a sobering thought, although not an entirely unwelcome one.

A fairly large part of Gabriel wants to join him, wants to throw himself on his knees beside Sam and beg Dad to stop this before it's too late. He thinks about it, thinks about sinking down the way he used to when the world was new, back before the fighting began, when there was only love among them. There had been such peace then, a breathless awe that was only broken by song when the beauty became too great to bear, glorious hymns of love and reverence and joy, accompanied by their Father's approving smile. Gabriel yearns for that, hungers for it more than he'd ever known he could want anything, but try as he might, he just can't bring himself to join Sam in his prayers. Every time he even thinks about kneeling down beside him, fear sinks icy claws into his soul, leaving him even more alone and aching than he was when he first followed Sam into the church.

He doesn't even know what he's afraid of, really. Not Dad - he'd actually have to show his face for Gabriel to be afraid of him, and Dad seems to want to forget about him now. Not Michael, who would have about the same regard for him as any of them ever had for the pagan gods of old. Not Lucifer, either; it's almost impossible to fear someone once you've held them close and wiped away their tears. No, he fears something else entirely. Maybe it's something inside himself, the remembered power of an archangel that once made the world tremble at his step, perhaps, or the wild swirl of the old magic that brought him back, or maybe it's this new feeling inside, the sense that he doesn't know the half of who he really is anymore - if he ever did - or what he's capable of. He's a new creature now, one he's not at all sure shouldn't be hunted down like the other things the Winchesters track, and he's pretty sure things like him have no business kneeling to pray. Gods - or monsters, whichever he is now - don't pray; they accept others' prayers if they feel like it, or reject them and slaughter their would-be worshippers if they don't.

But Gabriel doesn't feel like a god. Gods should be powerful and confident and sure of their place in the world, and he isn't really any of those things. Oh, he still has some powers - he can stay invisible if he feels like it, conjure whatever he needs out of thin air, and travel with a thought like he always could, but life and death and time, those are all beyond him now. He's earthbound, tied to the mortal world until it ends and takes him with it. So he supposes the humans would call him a god, but he's known real gods, remembers when they walked the earth and filled those around them with terror and awe, and he's about as far removed from their splendor as it's possible to get without turning into a human. He's a hybrid, part fish and part fowl, but not really either one, and he doesn't belong anywhere.

Except here, oddly enough. Standing beside Sam as he rises from his prayers, whether in church or in a shabby motel room, Gabriel feels almost... content. He might envy the man his ability to kneel when he sinks down, but when he gets back up, there's a renewed strength and calm centeredness about him that seems to extend to Gabriel as well, a sense of rightness that makes him think they might actually win this thing yet. Gabriel might not have faith in Dad or his brothers anymore, but he's starting to believe in the Winchesters and their fight. Win or lose, this time he's not running away; he's going to stay and see it through to the end. He promises himself that, and more, he promises Sam Winchester that every time he stands over him while he prays.

And who knows, maybe someday both their prayers will be answered.


End file.
